tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29885071025307718582024-03-04T22:58:41.681-08:00Marilyn PappanoMarilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.comBlogger80125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-53344164595275443412013-02-17T08:47:00.000-08:002013-02-17T08:56:40.071-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<em>USA Today</em> best-seller.</div>
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RITA, More Than Magic, Maggie, <em>Romantic Times</em> </div>
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Reviewers' Choice and Career Achievement winner.</div>
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Author of eighty books.</div>
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One-half of the Twisted Sisters.</div>
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<a href="http://the-twisted-sisters.com/" target="_blank">Check out our blog!</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MeaC5k-n_ud-lDRsAAIrS1JBTVax7XNYFQbaAqq4bk23mydPbeg3l6PUzHownH_FaY52X6qhpX1_i8on57PVM7XxjC8YEYL2awqz767iHJXYZWdYaPc_3LusJ9JscGVeRO7RWwqHPls/s1600/Copper+Lake+Confidential.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MeaC5k-n_ud-lDRsAAIrS1JBTVax7XNYFQbaAqq4bk23mydPbeg3l6PUzHownH_FaY52X6qhpX1_i8on57PVM7XxjC8YEYL2awqz767iHJXYZWdYaPc_3LusJ9JscGVeRO7RWwqHPls/s1600/Copper+Lake+Confidential.png" /></a><em>Copper Lake Confidential </em>Copper Lake, Georgia series</div>
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Harlequin Romantic Suspense</div>
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01 April 2013</div>
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<i><strong></strong></i> </div>
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<i><strong>A house with a dark history</strong></i></div>
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After a miscarriage and over a year in a psychiatric hospital, Macy Howard is ready to revisit her old home in Copper Lake, Georgia—a town tainted by memory.</div>
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When she returns, Macy meets Stephen Noble, an author and veterinarian, who doesn’t know about Macy’s troubled past. Stephen finds her irresistible, and, finally, Macy feels willing to trust another man. With her family’s help, Macy packs up old remnants—eager to usher in new beginnings. Her future seems hopeful—until strange things start happening in the house: stirrings in the windows…items turning up in unexpected places…lingering scents that don’t belong.</div>
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Is Macy slowly descending into madness? Or is something more sinister at work in Copper Lake?</div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Confidential-Harlequin-Romantic-Suspense-ebook/dp/B00ALTVN3S/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1361118209&sr=1-1" target="_blank">Order here.</a></div>
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<em>A Hero to Come Home To</em></div>
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A Tallgrass Novel</div>
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Forever Romance</div>
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25 June 2013 </div>
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<strong><em>First he fought for his country. </em></strong><strong><em>Now he'll fight for
her.</em></strong><br />
<strong><br /></strong>Two years after losing her husband in Afghanistan, Carly
Lowry has rebuilt her life in Tallgrass, Oklahoma. She has a job she loves
teaching third grade and the best friends in the world: fellow military wives
who understand what it means to love a man in uniform. She's comfortable and
content...until she meets a ruggedly handsome stranger who rekindles desires
Carly isn't quite sure she's ready to feel. </div>
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Staff Sergeant Dane Clark
wanted to have a loving family, a twenty-year Army stint, and then a low-key
civilian career. But the paratrooper's plans were derailed by a mission gone
wrong. Struggling to adjust to his new life, he finds comfort in the wide open
spaces of Tallgrass--and in the unexpected attention of sweet, lovely Carly. She
is the one person who makes him believe life is worth living. But when Carly
discovers he's been hiding the real reason he's come to Tallgrass, will Dane be
able to convince her he is the hero she needs?</div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Hero-Come-Tallgrass-Novel-ebook/dp/B00A2DAB7W" target="_blank">Order here.</a></div>
<img height="96" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MeaC5k-n_ud-lDRsAAIrS1JBTVax7XNYFQbaAqq4bk23mydPbeg3l6PUzHownH_FaY52X6qhpX1_i8on57PVM7XxjC8YEYL2awqz767iHJXYZWdYaPc_3LusJ9JscGVeRO7RWwqHPls/s1600/Copper+Lake+Confidential.png" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 101px; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 580px;" width="60" />Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-56336049225303687422013-01-11T01:00:00.000-08:002013-01-11T01:00:02.034-08:00Saving WordsI'm never at a loss for words. I can easily say in a hundred words what someone else can say in ten. Like <em>Seinfeld</em>, I can talk a lot about nothing.<br />
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But sometimes I find myself at a loss for <em>meaningful</em> words. My husband asked me what it felt like when I get a particular vertebrae that gives me a lot of trouble adjusted, and all I could come up with was, "Good." I'm pretty sure that if I put myself into a character who was asked the same question, I could describe the touch of the hands; the pressure, gentle at first, then increasing; the hard push; the twist of the hands; the loud <em>craack!</em>; the instant of pain, followed by warmth and tingling; then the relief.<br />
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I hear about someone who's going through a tough time, and I say, "Poor thing" or "Bless her heart," when the heroine in my current book would say, "Oh, that poor darlin'. That just breaks my heart. I can't imagine where she'll find the strength to get through this, but I'll pray that she does, and you tell her, if there's anything I can do for her, just let me know." While my heroine in my other current book would say, "Geez, that sucks. She must have really pissed off the universe. If I were her, I'd have a couple drinks, put on my boots and start kicking ass. And there wouldn't <em>be</em> any taking of names."<br />
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It's not that I don't feel/know/understand things. I just put all those feelings/knowledge/understanding into books instead. In real life, "good" is good enough for me.Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-53010857633942301662013-01-09T01:00:00.000-08:002013-01-09T01:00:07.859-08:00Who's Normal Now?I read a comment recently that <em>normal</em> is an odd word. Everyone's idea of <em>normal</em> is determined by their own experiences, beliefs, upbringing, perspective, etc., and since we're not all alike in those aspects, our ideas of <em>normal </em>are going to vary to some degree, thereby making the definition of <em>normal</em> pointless beyond how we as individuals perceive it.<br />
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Writers are often perceived as not normal. I've known I was a little bit different for as long as I can remember. I created people in my head and made up stories to go with them. I didn't need anything to keep me occupied; I could live with those people in my head for long stretches at a time. As a very introverted child, I did a lot of observing while other kids were doing. After I sold my first book, my mom was relieved, she later told me, because being a writer meant I was eccentric, not weird. <br />
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To the nonwriters in my life, I'm kind of a puzzle. I spend long hours alone; I research wildly varying subjects; I create people, entire families and towns, put them in danger, save them, break their hearts and heal them; I do it all sitting at the computer and looking no different from them when they're Facebooking or emailing; then suddenly, a book appears with my name on it. Most of them think I'm a bit odd.<br />
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But to me, this is normal and has been my normal my entire life. I wouldn't know what to do if the characters stopped speaking to me, if the plots stopped coming. I can't imagine what it's like for my nonwriting family and friends to be <em>alone</em> inside their heads.<br />
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Normal is in the eye of the beholder, which kind of defeats the purpose of the word, you know?Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-75541716464063717392013-01-07T01:00:00.000-08:002013-01-07T01:00:03.285-08:00Random Blog GeneratorTalk to anyone who blogs regularly, and sooner rather than later they're going to admit that they have trouble coming up with ideas to write about, including me. Especially me. If I were a techy sort of person, I was thinking, I'd come up with a random idea generator. You know, you'd spin the computer, it would go round and round, slowly clicking to a stop, and there would be a word or phrase that you would then write about.<br />
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Then I realized what the low-tech version would be: a dictionary, magazine, book, whatever -- anything with words in it. You close your eyes, flip to a word, and that's what you write about. Who knows? You could hit on some pretty thought-provoking words.<br />
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Or you could hit <em>the. An. Sphincter. </em><br />
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What can you say about <em>the</em>? It would be hard to read or write a book without it. I always mistype it <em>hte.</em> It's one of those invisible words that you skim over when you read it but sure notice when it's missing. Maybe the best thing about it: it makes for a short blog. :)Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-41072736629273798222013-01-02T01:00:00.000-08:002013-01-02T01:00:02.776-08:00A Shiny New YearI know -- everyone's talking about the new year and resolutions or goals, so yep, I'm jumping in. <br />
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But not with resolutions or goals. I saw a note on friend Deb's Facebook page about a happiness jar: you take a glass jar with a lid, and every time something good happens, you make a note on a slip of paper and drop it in. Next New Year's Eve, you open the jar and read the slips.<br />
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I really like the idea. When we're having a tough time, it's easy to forget that there have been lots of good times before and hard to believe that they'll come again. But if you keep track of the highlights, the reminders are right there. <br />
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I've got tons of canning jars and reams of paper. I'm going to start my own happiness jar. The more time I spend focusing on that, the less I have for noticing the little things that annoy me. Who knows? Maybe I can fill two or three jars.<br />
Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-38600144291706963732012-12-31T01:00:00.000-08:002012-12-31T01:00:00.811-08:00Stirring a HungerAs I write this, it's Sunday night, it's cold, I'm tired, and I'm already thinking about bed. The TV is on, and the commercials are driving me nuts. Philadelphia Cream Cheese slathered on a toasted bagel, when we have neither Philly nor bagels in the house. Close-ups of a big greasy burger with crispy fries from a restaurant on the far side of Tulsa. Fresh blueberries. Barbecued ribs with a side of pickles and onions. Drool . . . sigh . . . <br />
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The ads are definitely working . . . but they're making my dinner salad look pretty sad in comparison. It's just not fair.Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-57931788039164950602012-12-28T06:51:00.000-08:002012-12-28T06:51:22.978-08:00You Know What They Say About Good Intentions?The road to hell is paved with them.<br />
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When I started this blog, I promised myself I would set a schedule and stick to it: post every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Like clockwork. No excuses.<br />
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Well.<br />
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The truth is, I've never stuck to a schedule in my life except for school, where I could be punished for being late, and when I worked in the real world, where I could lose my job for being late. I do meet most of my deadlines on time (or very close), but I'm horrible about actually doing things in a timely fashion.<br />
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The funny thing about it is I've been like this my entire life, and yet I still manage to fool myself totally. Oh, yeah, I'm gonna blog three days a week. I'm gonna walk every morning after breakfast. I'm gonna clean house <em>today.</em> Or tomorrow at the latest.<br />
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I'm cynical as can be when it comes to people, situations, politics, but when it comes to myself, I'm the most gullible one out there. Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-54814147032042874752012-12-24T07:37:00.000-08:002012-12-24T07:37:24.341-08:00Parties and JobsI often think when we're trying to celebrate something with more than four people that regular jobs certainly get in the way of having fun.<br />
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Due to various commitments, my family had Christmas Eve last night -- the only time every single one of us could be there. We had great food (my contribution was chips, crackers and a block of softened cream cheese with Meg's red pepper jelly poured over it -- delicious!), and the kids were a hoot. While they were opening gifts, we somehow broke into a group chorus of "Soft Kitty" from <em>The Big Bang Theory</em>. My niece Kate commented, "Some families sing Christmas carols. We sing 'Soft Kitty.'"<br />
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Nephew #1 is at the age that his gifts aren't much fun in the moment -- video games, gift cards, cash. My grandson and Nephew #2 were thrilled with every package they ripped open -- lots of squeals, wows, and requests to take items out of their packages. (Have you ever noticed that toys have enough plastic ties, wires and packaging to make removing them a major ordeal?) Baby Nephew is ten months -- just old enough to like the wrapping as much as the gifts. The ornament with his initial went into his mouth every time his mom wasn't looking. <br />
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I'm still ready to see the last of the this holiday season, but for all of you out there who are feeling more elfish than I am, may you have a "Soft Kitty" Christmas.Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-53988276492286359852012-12-21T01:00:00.000-08:002012-12-21T01:00:03.709-08:00Happy Christmas Tree!Charisse asked if I would post pictures of the tree when it was finished so, Charisse, these are for you.<br />
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Hm. Bit of a blur, huh? Is this better?<br />
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Okay, here's the real thing, though you can hardly see the lights on.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijKrWgk_ATbn7sMWuhMgNLyanKT5w3YmXDmOpfm3d6IhOgkR4m6cJQkA57eXEZWFdZEaD0qBmw3EMQjBrt5egZ4o8HgmFLkXGJJAigcbn_7F-ENcdsFoNR4odi2LgB0cT4j_ZZ08v9KlM/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijKrWgk_ATbn7sMWuhMgNLyanKT5w3YmXDmOpfm3d6IhOgkR4m6cJQkA57eXEZWFdZEaD0qBmw3EMQjBrt5egZ4o8HgmFLkXGJJAigcbn_7F-ENcdsFoNR4odi2LgB0cT4j_ZZ08v9KlM/s320/4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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It's decorated entirely with glass ornaments that I painted last year. I know some of the colors aren't exactly Christmas colors, but they really pop, and it's my tree so I get to use colors that make me happy. Here are a few close-ups:<br />
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Merry Christmas, y'all!<br />
Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-3487130007276751702012-12-19T07:34:00.000-08:002012-12-19T07:34:18.729-08:00Two Hours, Four Phone Calls, A Dozen Emails, Two Dozen Curses . . . or Setting up a PayPal AccountYesterday I tried to set up a PayPal account. I had one oh, so many years ago, but lost my password <em>and</em> changed my e-mail address. I couldn't get in to change the address, and when I tried to reset my password, they kept sending the new one to the old address which I no longer had. After a while of tearing out my hair, I gave up.<br />
<br />
But, yes, the time has come when PayPal seems desirable again. So I created the account and everything went great until I tried to add my bank account. Nope, that account was associated with the old account. At least this time I could get a new code by phone that allowed me to access that account. I went in to delete it, but they had to have a current email address first. I tried to use my primary address (couldn't -- it was tied to the new account). I was able to add my husband's address to it, get it verified and then close the account.<br />
<br />
Next I went back to the new account and tried to add the bank again. Couldn't do it. That bank was associated with another account. So back I went to the beginning, searching for an account for which I didn't know the email <em>or </em>password. Another couple phone calls, adding a new address, verifying it, closing that account . . .<br />
<br />
<em>Finally</em> I got the bank added to the new account. <br />
<br />
And I wrote down the email address and the password.<br />
<br />
In <em>three</em> places. <br />
<br />
Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-36363698583089285962012-12-17T06:06:00.000-08:002012-12-17T06:06:24.950-08:00A Hero to Come Home ToTa-da! The first book in the Tuesday Night Margarita Club/Tallgrass series is done! <br />
<br />
Well, at least for me. The cover's still being finalized, and the production and sales people still have their stuff to do, but as of 10:20 last night, I've finished the page proofs and won't see the book again until it's been printed and bound and my author copies have arrived.<br />
<br />
It was both sad and sweet reading the book. I still love the story, so that's good. But saying goodbye to Carly and Dane was kind of sad. Oh, they'll show up in the following books -- they get married in Book 3 -- but not as major characters. Their story is told. Therese and Keegan's story is already told, too, and Jessy and Dalton's is in the works. In fact, when I'm not writing, I'm working out story ideas for Lucy, Marti, Fia and Ilena. And when those are done, there's Bennie, Leah, Noah, Dillon and LoLo, and I'm sure more characters will pop up with their own romances.<br />
<br />
That's one of many good things about a series: there's always someone else with a tale so you're never at a loss for ideas.Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-4781724134206202232012-12-14T01:00:00.000-08:002012-12-14T01:00:09.710-08:00Ethnic Characters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Years ago I heard this advice from two writers: white authors shouldn't feature major characters who were Native American or African American because they don't "get" them. (The first writer was Native American, the other African American.) The mandate kind of surprised me, since I'd started in publishing writing ethnic heroes and heroines, and I'd read plenty of books I'd loved featuring characters of a different ethnicity than the authors.<br />
<br />
For whatever reason, those opinions stuck with me for a long time, until I'd written the last of my Southern Knights/Serenity Street series, when a reader asked if I would make a particular character the heroine of her own story and give her the happily-ever-after she deserved. I kind of stumbled around in an answer, until the reader said, "You're hesitating because she's black, aren't you?"<br />
<br />
I admitted that I'd been told by other authors that I shouldn't do ethnic heroes or heroines, and she laughed. "I'm black," she said, "and I'm asking you to write this black woman's story."<br />
<br />
She went on to point out that, regardless of bad advice, I did write black characters; they were just secondary characters. She reminded me that, first and foremost, heroes and heroines were people. Forget the color of their skin: at their core, they were men and women who hoped and tried and won and failed and were lonely and happy and angry and loved or neglected. They had dreams; they had disappointments. Nail the emotions, she said. That was what readers wanted. The rest would follow.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja4-QXnqxyzfAeXGB_6g6nfwxeDQj4ZYuLP4PANUa0EXwnV3WH4wP-Na3boO1196yPn_WeIyjjLE9qnJgfz-Bh0t1ElHG4Sxma5HUkFILIESzDghRYXS1UYP59xX9iKX2DTUjhDIarsRc/s1600/imagesCAJLD43T.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja4-QXnqxyzfAeXGB_6g6nfwxeDQj4ZYuLP4PANUa0EXwnV3WH4wP-Na3boO1196yPn_WeIyjjLE9qnJgfz-Bh0t1ElHG4Sxma5HUkFILIESzDghRYXS1UYP59xX9iKX2DTUjhDIarsRc/s1600/imagesCAJLD43T.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Though I haven't written that final Serenity Street book, I did take the woman's advice to heart. I learned that, basically, writing a character of a particular ethnic background is no different than a character from a specific geographic background or even a character in a particular occupation. I've read books set in my home state of Oklahoma where it's apparent the author thinks we're all cowboys or Indians, uneducated or oil-wealthy, living in log cabins or soddies or mansions. I've read books with Southern characters who are caricatures from <em>Gone with the Wind</em> or <em>Hee-Haw.</em> I've read books with a military background where even the basic terminology, ranks, ideas, are miles off the mark. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMT1qHJNtilVyM-bEFLMS6MIYYeyAb3dFBDArxalvIWf-SCHyOGdi_CKTkPu_-RDNG_M5Wd0KK7FxovZi7yInY9HX4ewvxbEIqweTWPYeQgmw9dZ-0kA28Tkar6I2f45J3U1IAv-Vjhs/s1600/rachel-butler-deep-cover-selena-mccaffrey-series_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMT1qHJNtilVyM-bEFLMS6MIYYeyAb3dFBDArxalvIWf-SCHyOGdi_CKTkPu_-RDNG_M5Wd0KK7FxovZi7yInY9HX4ewvxbEIqweTWPYeQgmw9dZ-0kA28Tkar6I2f45J3U1IAv-Vjhs/s1600/rachel-butler-deep-cover-selena-mccaffrey-series_1.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And I've read books written by people who have never set foot in my state but nailed the characters. Who haven't gotten closer to the South than looking at a map but write as if they grew up in Macon or Charleston or Raleigh. Whose only interaction with a police office has been talking their way out of a speeding ticket but who write cops so believable, you'd think they either were cops themselves or were married to one. <br />
<br />
The key is research. We don't have to be murderers to be able to write people who are. We don't need to be white, black, Indian, cowboy, soldier, cop, schoolteacher, Christian, atheist, Jew, mother, father, child to be able to write characters who are. We need to research the backgrounds of our characters, though. We need to know them, inside and out. We need to do them justice.Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-33599524171490207492012-12-12T01:00:00.000-08:002012-12-12T01:00:07.546-08:00Pecan Pie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidY70iE9tXxAS9IHfeFemV_KwsMozElj3aqIXoLp7p9CBvkyjy01SNrt_dmqg3BqyUWswrFd64pUZ6Ay4Xo9-x0ka-4_Q5iy42156lIAtbT8ql_UuSW4asz3oayaBVsQHpePp6sddQKh0/s1600/pecan-pie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidY70iE9tXxAS9IHfeFemV_KwsMozElj3aqIXoLp7p9CBvkyjy01SNrt_dmqg3BqyUWswrFd64pUZ6Ay4Xo9-x0ka-4_Q5iy42156lIAtbT8ql_UuSW4asz3oayaBVsQHpePp6sddQKh0/s320/pecan-pie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
My mother's goal in retirement was to learn to make an absolutely perfect, flaky, delicious pie pastry.<br />
<br />
My life's goal has been to never eat pie crust if I can possibly avoid it. So far, I've done quite well, thank you, though there are those irritating bits that scrape off on the fork when I'm scooping out the filling. Someday I'm going to try baking this pie without the crust. If it works, problem solved, right?<br />
<br />
Our son was six or seven when we moved to South Carolina the third time. Our first morning there, we went to a pancake place and he ordered a "puh-CAHN" waffle. "That's one PEE-can waffle?" the waitress repeated. No, he replied. Puh-CAHN.<br />
<br />
(I've erased from memory the remarks he made when she brought grits to go with the waffle. Mercifully.)<br />
<br />
That year we didn't get to come home to Oklahoma for Thanksgiving, so I asked for requests. His dad always wanted mincemeat pie. (I don't care if it is sold in a grocery store, mincement is NOT edible.) The kiddo asked for a pecan pie and sat at the counter sneaking nuts while I made it. He was totally uninterested while I mixed the eggs, Karo, sugar and butter, but when I started to pour it into the pie crust, he got distraught. <br />
<br />
"What are you doing? That stuff is gross. It doesn't go in a pecan pie!"<br />
<br />
"Then what DOES go in?" I asked.<br />
<br />
He shrugged, rolled his eyes as if I were the dumbest baker in the world and said, "Pecans. And crust. That's all."<br />
<br />
This from a child who ate Cool Whip on sandwich bread.<br />
<br />
Everyone's a critic.Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-6989588530130669442012-12-10T01:00:00.000-08:002012-12-10T01:00:02.667-08:00Parades and Route 66If you're my age or older, you probably remember hearing the song/saying/whatever the heck it was: <em>Get your kicks on Route 66.</em><br />
<br />
66 was opened in the 1920s and ran nearly 2500 miles from Chicago to Los Angeles. It meanders across Oklahoma -- we had more miles of it than any other state. Because of its importance in travel and migration, it's also called the Main Street of America and the Mother Road. <br />
<br />
We just called it "our road." <br />
<br />
The house where my sisters and I grew up is located maybe a hundred feet off one of the remaining sections of the old original 66 outside Sapulpa (right down the road from the TeePee Drive-In). I learned to ride my bike on that road. To skateboard and, later, to drive. We used to trek down it to visit my granny (when we decided not to cut across the fields, climb two barbed-wire fences and cross the railroad tracks) and up it to visit friends. It was nothing special back then, not to us. When people would come out in their restored old automobiles and convoy past the house (sometimes dressed to match the period of the cars), I just thought they were weird.<br />
<br />
Anyway, back to the present . . . last night was Sapulpa's Christmas parade, and the theme was our road. There were old cars, girls in poodle skirts, old old fire engines and trucks, and a couple floats that represented the TeePee and some other places along the highway (the Blue Whale, Carl's Pigstand, Wimpy's Cafe, the old Dairy Queen). It would have felt a little more appropriate had we gone downtown to Dewey Street, which IS Route 66, to watch, but it was a nice trip back in time as it was.<br />
<br />
And after freezing my butt off, listening to the music and watching the little boy beside us absolutely beam with excitement, I'm thinking at least some of the blah might be leaving my humbug!Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-66715147476566836822012-12-07T01:00:00.000-08:002012-12-07T01:00:01.958-08:00Deck the Halls, Blah Blah BlahI'm not a Christmas sort of girl. I usually do some decorating, but over the years it's gotten less and less. I have an entire large closet packed to the brim with ornaments, wreaths, lights (about 5,000, give or take), stockings, etc., but I can't remember the last year I actually used all of it. <br />
<br />
Having five in-house dogs means decorating takes a little extra effort. No live tree, because when we tried that, they peed on it every day. Nothing within their reach, either, so the artificial tree has to be mounted on a table 3' tall, and breakables have to be wired onto the branches for the times they misjudge their mad dashes through the house and crash into the table. No stockings hanging from the fireplace where they can yank them down. No Father Christmases or elaborately dressed angels on low surfaces, either, because they're just so darn much fun to chew on or cuddle with.<br />
<br />
This year I don't have the tree up yet, and I'm not sure I actually care. Once we put it up, after a few weeks, I'll just have to start thinking about taking it down again. I haven't done any shopping -- everyone just wants money. I haven't even gotten out the old Elvis Presley CD of Christmas tunes.<br />
<br />
Though it's not all bah humbug around here. I watched <em>Elf</em> the other day, laughed in the right places, and even sang along. <br />
<br />
Nineteen days until Christmas. I'll either get in the mood or the holiday will be over and I won't have to think about it again until next year. <br />
<br />
<em>That's </em>an idea I can get behind.Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-88370102679894091132012-12-05T06:52:00.000-08:002012-12-05T06:52:55.927-08:00Quirky NamesI read somewhere recently that actor Rob Morrow named his kid Tu Morrow.<br />
<br />
One of my cousins has a daughter named Harleigh Davidson.<br />
<br />
My kid went to school with a girl whose name was pronounced "<em>TOE-shane." </em>Kind of pretty, isn't it? Unfortunately, it was spelled "Towchain." Did her mother see a wrecker on the way to the hospital to deliver?<br />
<br />
But the quirky names I really want to talk about today are character names. I've had a few, usually by accident. Like Chance Reynard in <em>A Little Bit Dangerous</em>. I knew "chance" meant luck or fortune in French, but I used the last name of my friend, Monica. (The book was dedicated to her, too.) I didn't know until the book was done and my editor told me that "reynard" meant fox in French. <br />
<br />
In the Tuesday Night Margarita Club/Tallgrass series, I've got twin brothers, Dalton and Dillon. I named Dalton first, knew that because of the family tradition, his brother's name also had to begin with a D, and chose Dillon. It wasn't until my editor mentioned Marshal Dillon and the Dalton gang that I recognized the significance. You'd think someone born and raised in Oklahoma would have caught on right away, but I didn't.<br />
<br />
Not long ago I read a review of a book that takes place in Texas in which the three best friends are named Dallas, Austin and Houston. Now I'm reading a book in which the hero and his brothers are named Clay Rhodes, Stony Rhodes, and Tulane Rhodes.<br />
<br />
So now I'm curious. What's your thought on quirky character names? Do they make you smile or roll your eyes, or do you just not care?Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-88503995014990677722012-12-03T01:00:00.000-08:002012-12-03T01:00:11.607-08:00The Next Big Thing Blog Hop<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you, <a href="http://christyolesen.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Christy Olesen</a>, for tagging me for The Next Big Thing Blog Hop.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">The Next Big Thing blog hop</span>
poses a series of questions to writers about their current WIP. Since I've got
two works-in-progress (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Love to Call Her
Own </i>in the Tuesday Night Margarita Club/Tallgrass series and an as-yet
untitled story in the Copper Lake series), I've decided to answer the questions
about my next book, already written and on the schedule. <br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><em>What is the working title of your book?</em></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The book is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Copper Lake Confidential</i> and is
scheduled with Harlequin Romantic Suspense for April 2013. That means it will
actually be on the shelves around mid- to late March.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I'd like to be able to
tell you what number in the series it is, but I've lost track. Tenth? Twelfth?
There've been a bunch. It stands alone, though. You don't need to know anything
about the previous books to enjoy it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><em>Where did the idea of the book come from?</em></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I have a real fondness
for atmospheric stories – you know, creepy, ghosty, spine-tingling types – and I
love vulnerable, flawed characters. Usually it's my heroes who have issues, but
in this one Stephen's as normal as a hero could be, while it's Macy who's got
problems. After her husband's death revealed horrific secrets about the man she
loved, she wound up in a psychiatric ward for a time. She's trying to take back
her life – and begin caring once again for her three-year-old daughter – but either
she's going crazy again . . . or someone's trying to make her think so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><em>What genre does your book fall under?<o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This one is romantic
suspense, though, like I said, more of a psychological suspense. I can write
action scenes. I just prefer to raise goosebumps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><em>Which actor would you choose to play your characters in a movie
rendition?</em></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Um . . . here's one of
my quirks: I don't watch many movies or watch a whole lot of television. (Getting
fewer than a dozen channels helps with that.) I don't recognize most people on
the screen or in magazines like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">People.</i>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was lucky enough to
have a movie made from my book, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Season
for Miracles.</i> I didn't know who David Conrad was at the time, but no one else
could ever possibly be Nathan; he made that character his own. So I'd leave the
casting to someone who's actually familiar with actors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><em>What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?</em></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ugh. I'm a big believer
that more is more. Why say in twenty words what I can put into two hundred?
Let's see . . . <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Macy Howard's come
home to Copper Lake to put the past to rest so she can make a new start for
herself and little Clary, but when danger stalks her, she begins to doubt her
competence and her sanity. The only thing she doesn't doubt is new neighbor
Stephen Noble, who believes in her when she can't believe in herself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Okay, so it's two
sentences. Close enough, right? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><em>Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?</em></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The book will be
published by Harlequin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><em>How long did it take you to finish the first draft of your project?</em></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I'm a first-draft
writer. Probably 99% of what you see in the published book is my original version.
It generally takes me about five to six weeks to write a 70,000-word book. Each
day when I start work, I reread the pages I wrote the day before, and I make
whatever changes are necessary then. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I love that I normally
don't have to do second drafts or revisions, because usually by the time I
reach the end of a story, I'm so ready for it to be done that I'd kill the
characters rather than live with them any longer. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><em>What other books would you compare this story to in your genre?</em></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Um, other Harlequin
Romantic Suspenses, I guess. In the past, my romantic suspense books have been
compared to Sandra Brown's, JD Robb/Nora Roberts's and Linda Howard's, and my
straight romances with Robyn Carr's and Debbie Macomber's.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><em>Who or what inspired you to write this story?</em></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I love the Copper Lake
series, with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Copper Lake Scandal</i> my
all-time favorite. The villain in that book had a wife and an infant daughter
whom he adored. I always think a villain, to be effective, has to have some
redeeming traits. After finishing that book, I wondered from time to time about
that wife. What happened to her after her husband's death? After all his
creepy, horrifying secrets came out? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><em>What else about your book may pique readers’ interest?</em></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There's a dog in it –
isn't there usually? Scooter is a yellow Lab mix who shares a lot of traits
with my own puppers. He's not only the mechanism through which Macy and Stephen
meet, but he's a lot of fun, too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So now that I've
answered the questions, I'm supposed to tag some other authors to find out
what's THE NEXT BIG THING they're working on. I'm choosing some of my favorite
people:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://ltrout.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Linda Trout</a> (new book
out!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://lynnsomervillefiction.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Lynn Somerville</a> (new
book out!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://blog.magolla.com/" target="_blank">M.A. Golla</a> (great
middle-grade fantasy books, with a Christmas tale available now!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://smalltownworld.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Susan Shay</a> (just sold
my favorite of everything she's ever written!)</span></div>
Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-44796028066953202862012-11-30T01:00:00.000-08:002012-11-30T01:00:04.299-08:00Pardon my RantI understand the separation of church and state, okay? I get that not everyone embraces the same religion or, in fact, any religion. In my experience, most people who do support religion know where to draw the line with regards to government. <br />
<br />
What I'm complaining about today has nothing to do with religion, even though it might look that way on the surface. <br />
<br />
An Oklahoma family wanted to donate a stone monument for the Oklahoma State capitol grounds with the Ten Commandments engraved thereon. The legislature voted in favor of accepting it; the governor agreed; the monument was erected.<br />
<br />
And a group from Wisconsin is now threatening a lawsuit to get it removed.<br />
<br />
The town of Buhler, Kansas, had a cross, among other things representative of their town, on their seal. The same Wisconsin group threatened a lawsuit. The town of less than 1300 residents changed the seal because they couldn't afford to get embroiled in court.<br />
<br />
Should the monument have been erected? Should the cross ever have been included in the seal? Not the point.<br />
<br />
The point is this: what business is it of the Wisconsin group what we here in Oklahoma and Kansas choose to do? What standing do they have to sue us (or threaten us) on any issue that takes place within our states? They don't live here. They don't work here. They don't pay taxes here. <br />
<br />
Oklahomans are perfectly capable of running their own business. We have plenty of residents who can complain and threaten lawsuits just fine, no help needed from outside state lines. If you don't like the way we do things here, go home.<br />
<br />
Oh, wait, you <em>aren't</em> here to start with. It's none of your business. Shut up and worry about what's happening in your own town/state, and leave us alone.Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-61534347437847694222012-11-28T01:00:00.000-08:002012-11-28T01:00:14.323-08:00I Love Criminal Minds, But . . .Is it odd that <em>Criminal Minds</em> has my absolute favorite cast of all shows on TV but I'm about to give up watching it?<br />
<br />
I've been a fan from the beginning. I've seen every episode multiple times (except for the two-parter where the guy had a split personality and let his dogs rip a woman to shreds - I refused to watch it a second time). I think David Rossi is the sexiest guy on TV, I adore Spencer and JJ, and I bow at the temple of Garcia. (I even wrote a secondary character who was a thinly-veiled take on Garcia.) I like Prentiss and Hotch and don't even want to smack Morgan more than once an episode.<br />
<br />
But enough is enough, or I guess I should say too much.<br />
<br />
Too much violence. Too much gore. Too much graphic ickiness. When a show makes me queasy, when the storylines routinely make my stomach hurt, it's time to change the channel. <br />
<br />
It seems people are bored with regular bad guys, so TV shows/movies/authors have had to kick it up a notch. The villains can't just be murderers, rapists or terrorists anymore; they have to remove body parts, skin their victims, torture them brutally. The ick/discomfort factor has gone through the roof.<br />
<br />
And so, <em>Criminal Minds,</em> much as it pains me to say it, you're off my must-see list. I'll continue the practice I started at the beginning of the season: I'll watch the first few minutes, but at the first sign of gratuitous, graphic violence, the first torture or dismembered body, I'm switching to PBS.Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-25714558234204605702012-11-26T01:00:00.000-08:002012-11-26T01:00:04.424-08:00Life in HarmonyI used to have a sort of balance to my life. I wrote as much as I could six months of the year and did as much as outdoors work the remaining six. Then one summer I got laid up by a brown recluse spider, then broke my elbow. The next I broke my wrist and had surgery. The next I had two knee surgeries. The next I had a scope on one knee and a total replacement on the other. The next I had a tummy tuck. <br />
<br />
You get the idea: I traded mowers, trimmers, matches, shovels, and chainsaws for doctors, anesthesia, and rehab.<br />
<br />
This summer I got virtually no yard work done--too busy with the five books I contracted to write in one year. The fourth book went off through the ether to my agent and editor on Sunday, so Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, I gathered gloves, goggles, matches, and tools and hacked my way into the jungle.<br />
<br />
Oh. My. Gosh. I don't have anywhere <em>near </em>the stamina I used to have. Granted, I'm a few years older, but I've gained a few bionic parts. Shouldn't that balance out somehow?<br />
<br />
After too many hours, all I can say is there's a 50X200' foot swath of front yard that's trimmed as neatly as any golf course and one of the brush piles has been burned to ash. The little side yard looks great, too, but Bob gets credit for that. Now there's only the remaining three acres or so of dead foot-high weeds, another acre of dead six-foot-high Johnson grass, and three brush piles, plus a half dozen trees to cut down. <br />
<br />
By the time I work out there a while longer, I'm gonna be so happy to return to my desk and Book 5!<br />
<br />
Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-35523431828690776492012-11-23T01:00:00.000-08:002012-11-23T08:44:34.581-08:00When All Else Fails, Check the OilMy husband and I were watching a young woman and her mother outside the restaurant where we were eating. Daughter got in her car, turned the key, and nothing happened. Mom stepped up, gestured to her open to the hood, and very efficiently went about the task of checking the oil. She pulled out the dipstick, wiped it on a napkin, stuck it back in, then pulled it out and squinted to read it. Judging by her expression, low oil wasn't the problem. She put the dipstick back in, shrugged, and slammed the hood, Daughter got out of the car, and off they went to Mom's car.<br />
<br />
I have to say, checking the oil has never been my first thought when I can't get so much as a click on turning the key. Then again, I'm no mechanic.<br />
<br />
My response would have been the same, though: catch a ride with someone and make the non-starting car someone else's problem. Isn't that what dads, husbands, brothers, and tow truck drivers are for?Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-87892639268725450152012-11-22T01:00:00.000-08:002012-11-22T01:00:05.924-08:00Happy Thanksgiving!T'is the day to eat too much, watch too much TV, and have too much fun. (At least with my family.)<br />
<br />
It will also be my first Thanksgiving since going gluten-free, so no dressing, no gravy, no Kings' Hawaiiaan rolls, no baked desserts and, worst of all, none of my bil's mother's chicken and noodles.<br />
<br />
Wonder how successful I'll be?Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-71569161112535864252012-11-12T01:00:00.000-08:002012-11-12T01:00:05.170-08:00Disappearing ActI know, I missed the last two blogs, haven't been on Facebook, and haven't tweeted in a while. I'm in the final pages of A MAN TO HOLD ON TO, the second book in the Tuesday Night Margarita Club -- a couple thousand words past my target with still more story to tell. It almost always works that way. Thankfully, it almost always works, too, that I can write far more words every day at the end than I normally do. It's a good thing, since scenes keep expanding and story threads keep whispering, "Go ahead and tie me up" or "I'm not done until the next book; keep 'em hanging."<br />
<br />
Anyway, I'll be back here -- and everywhere else -- within the next few days. In the meantime, y'all have fun in your lives without me!Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-56991597617268240582012-11-05T01:00:00.000-08:002012-11-05T01:00:00.982-08:00The New-Car ExperienceOur son and daughter-in-law bought a new car last week, and he was waxing poetic over all the cool mechanical/electronic aspects of it. So many horsepower or CCs, some type of headlights, nineteen-inch something-or-other . . . And when he finished, I said, "Cool!! It's got retractable sunscreens!!" <br />
<br />
I would <em>so</em> buy a car with retractable sunscreens.<br />
<br />
The smell and feel of a new car, especially with all the high-tech options available, tempt me from time to time. But then I think about the new-car payments, and the new-car parking-in-the-north-forty, and the obligatory keeping-the-new-car-clean at least until the smell fades. <br />
<br />
My truck is eight years old. It's got four-wheel-drive, which is necessary here on the hill in winter, and enough room to haul the puppers to and from the vet. It's already got dings -- one from sliding into a ditch one winter night when even four-wheel-drive wasn't enough and one from backing out of the garage. (I take the blame for that one. The rail for the garage door didn't <em>look</em> that close in the rearview mirror.) It's finally at the point where Bob doesn't automatically seek out the most distant space in the parking lot and I actually (don't tell him!) park up front when I find a space.<br />
<br />
And keeping the faithful old truck helps us avoid the dreaded car salesperson. <br />
<br />
I realize, people who live on commission have to be aggressive, especially when there's so much competition. South Memorial in Tulsa is turning into two giant car lots, one on each side of the street.<br />
<br />
But I'm not the sort of person who does well with pressure or negotiating. When we bought the truck, we walked onto the lot, looked around a bit, took it out for a test drive, and I said, "I want this one." Bob glared at me behind the sales guy's back and asked, "Don't you want to look at some others?"<br />
<br />
"Nope, I want this one."<br />
<br />
Oh, the grin that sales guy was wearing as they went inside to "negotiate."<br />
<br />
When the inevitable happens and we do have to replace the current vehicle, I may have to stay home while Bob does the looking, the haggling and the buying. <br />
<br />
Because I'd buy the first one with retractable sunscreens.<br />
<br />
Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2988507102530771858.post-38004099591841140652012-11-02T01:00:00.000-07:002012-11-02T01:00:07.058-07:00Duc and the Ice Cream CartonBack when we lived in North Carolina, I stood at the kitchen window one day and watched our son and his friend come up the street toward our house from the woods where they'd been playing. Every ten feet or so, they'd stop and look behind them. Turned out, they'd found a tiny little puppy in the woods and were coaxing him along. The kiddo wanted to be able to say, "Look what followed me home," rather than, "Look what I brought home."<br />
<br />
When they reached the house, they rang the doorbell and were waiting with hopeful faces when I opened it. "Look what followed me home," the kiddo predictably said. "Can I keep him?"<br />
<br />
I hadn't had a dog since before I got married. Bob was in the Navy, and we moved every few years. Rather than go through the hassle of buying and selling homes, we rented, and our rental agreement said in giant letters, <em>No pets!!!!</em> (Okay, the exclamation points are mine, but still ...)<br />
<br />
Not wanting to be the bad guy, I said, "Ask your dad." Bob knew the lease terms as well as I did, and I'd much rather have him be the one to wipe that hopefulness out of the kids' eyes.<br />
<br />
The kiddo summoned him to the porch, Bob sat down, and the wiggly black puppy climbed into his lap, licking his face all over, and Bob looked up at me. "Can we keep him?"<br />
<br />
Duc was a black Lab mix on a bit of a bad hair day. If you scrunched up his face, he looked just like a Chow. He was one smart pupper. While running wild in the back yard one night, he broke a toe on the long back leg of an Adirondack chair. Don't let him climb stairs for a while, the vet said, so we carried him up and down the stairs in our tri-level house. Once the toe was healed and he had the okay to climb on his own, I went into the kitchen without him one day, and he sat at the bottom of the steps, pitifully whimpering and holding up his (formerly) sore foot.<br />
<br />
He loved ice cream. Every time we went to Baskin Robbins, we bought a scoop in a cup to take home to him. Another day he sat in the kitchen and watched eagerly as I spooned the last of the ice cream from a carton that had been in the freezer. It was barely a scoop and I wasn't about to share, much to his disappointment. I threw the empty carton into the trash, then went into my office to eat at the computer.<br />
<br />
A few minutes later I heard a scraping sound in the kitchen. Figuring he'd gotten into something, I went to the door and found I was right. I'd mopped earlier and left the empty bucket sitting in a corner. Duc had turned the bucket upside down, scooted it across the room to the other corner, where the trash bin with its swinging door stood. He'd climbed onto the bucket, bracing himself with one front paw on the counter and the other on the wall, and stood, halfway in the trash can licking the ice cream dribbles from the carton.<br />
<br />
Problem-solving in a one-year-old dog. I always said he was smarter than a lot of people I knew, and I still believe it.Marilynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04021516647141651616noreply@blogger.com10